


fata viam invenient

by wichahpi



Series: Elate Week 2016 [1]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8311813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wichahpi/pseuds/wichahpi
Summary: In which Elena Fisher absolutely does not have a stomach bug.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Elate Week: **October 17th {Day One}** \- Promise || Bond; _I swapped it for something better_

It must be a stomach bug.

That’s what Elena tells herself, at least. She’d started feeling nauseous a few days before they headed home from their latest job, but it hadn’t been anything unmanageable. They’d only been home for barely forty eight hours before Nate had to head off to do some legwork on another lead, and their small-but-efficient crew was currently on a well earned break as soon as they made it back stateside. Elena herself had taken the weekend to relax, drink some ginger soda, eat some comfort food, and finish the book she’d splurged on at the airport. 

However, her body clearly has other plans. The mere smell of chicken noodle soup had her gagging, and her stomach rolled when she even attempted to curl into her favorite position for reading, which left her laying flat on the couch watching Ancient Aliens and wishing Nate was there to snark with her.

She tells herself it’s a stomach bug, but she knows her own body, and she knows this is nothing like the sickness that sometimes accompanied their frequent travels. Still, she lives in denial while Nate’s in San Diego, taking up official residence in the living room with a trashcan, her laptop, and a jug of ginger soda.

She even calls him, once, with the explicit purpose of informing him of her suspicions before chickening out and claiming she just missed the sound of his voice. Which wasn't exactly a lie, because she was sleeping on the couch just because their bedroom felt too empty without him, but the mere thought of not being able to look him in the eye and watch his every micro-expression left a bad taste in her mouth. So she lets herself live in denial, survives on saltines and bubbly drinks and watches bad TV, edits a few of her favorite shots to post on their blog and waits.

It isn’t until hours after he returns home, eyes bright with excitement as he gives her all the details about a job off the coast of Cameroon they’re considering, then intent with focus as he finishes up a sketch in his journal, that she resolves to finally bring it up to him.

She watches him with warmth blooming in her chest, her eyes soaking in the concentrated furrow of his brow, the sure strokes of his hand as he works a stretch of beachside cliffs. But, she shakes herself out of it and presses her face into her pillow, deciding that summoning her courage might be easier if she doesn’t get lost staring at the stupid, handsome face of her husband. She measures her breathing for a moment, waiting for any sign of nausea before finally speaking.

“I need to talk to you.” She says. But as far as Nate’s concerned, she might as well have been speaking Nepali.

“What was that?” He looks at her back with his eyebrows raised. “Got none of whatever you just said.”

“Sorry.” She grins sheepishly after she turns her head out of her pillow. “Bad habit.”

He sets his journal down and tilts his head down so he can really see her. “What’s up?”

Her smile drops and her face loses all color. “Hold that thought.” She groans, bolting upright and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, barely managing to drag the wastebasket towards her before the retching starts.

Nate’s immediately in motion behind her, one hand coming up to rub her back while the other brushes tendrils of hair back. 

“Are you still sick?” He asks worriedly, when she seems in control of her stomach again. “It’s been almost two weeks, hasn’t it?”

“About that.” She manages hoarsely as she puts the basket down. She pauses long enough to tuck her feet back underneath her and shifts just enough to see his face fully. “So, I think I’m pregnant.”

“Oh.” Nate’s hand drops from her back in shock. “ _Oh._ ” After their trip to Malaysia and establishing D&F Fortunes on a well-known cable network, they’d continued a conversation that had begun after Libertalia and had very pointedly ended it with Elena disposing of the rest of her birth control. It had been months, however, and no set urgency to their plans.

But –

His eyes drift down to her midsection, currently obscured by a Henley that Elena had stolen back in the beginning stages of their relationship. Equal parts excitement and terror flood through him, and he stares for several long moments before Elena gently pinches his thigh.

“Hey, earth to Nate.”

He shakes out of it, immediately cupping her cheek and moving towards her mouth before thinking better of it and redirecting to her forehead. “Sorry. I’m here.”

Her smile is wobbly and her eyes search his. “You okay? I thought I lost you for a minute.”

“Just – “ he inhales a shaky breath. “When?”

Elena shrugs, leaning her head into him with a bit of a smirk. “While we were in Myanmar, if I had to guess. Apparently, we might’ve celebrated that find a little _too_ hard.”

He lets out a short laugh before kissing her forehead again. “So what do you need? Can ask for an appointment first thing tomorrow, if we call your doctor?”

“That’d be nice.” She agrees. “But I was also thinking, drug store? I was gonna buy a few tests, but it didn’t feel right. Not without...“ She trails off.

“Me here.” He finishes for her.

“Yep.” She pops, burying her face in his arm, kissing his tanned bicep before sighing in exhaustion. It had only been a few days, but she’d missed him. She always had a hard time sleeping without him, and feeling under the weather only compounded it. They sat in silence together for a few moments, before it seems to hit Nate again.

“A baby.” He murmurs.

“Maybe.” She nods against him.

He drops his head to where her neck meets her shoulder and breathes deeply. “Our baby.”

She can’t help but smile as she threads her fingers through his hair. “That is generally how this works, I think.”

The grin that spreads over his face is only a little bit smug. He presses a kiss to her collarbone before pulling back, cupping her face with both hands. “I’ll be right back.”

He draws his face close to his and chastely kisses her lips, then immediately wrinkles his nose. “Brush your teeth while I’m gone, yeah?”

“Ugh, hurry up.” Elena groans at him, wiggling out of his arms and heading towards the bathroom.

The drive to the drugstore usually only takes about six minutes, if the traffic is light. But to Nate, it seems like he hits every red light, gets stuck behind the slowest drivers in Louisiana. He even manages to catch two red lights in one sitting, but it gives him time for it to sink in.

A baby. _His baby _. That he and Elena created, together. He imagines, for a moment, a little girl with Elena’s eyes, a little boy with her freckles.__

If this had happened a decade earlier, the mere thought of becoming a father would’ve undoubtedly sent him head first into reckless adventure. But his life had changed dramatically since discovering the coffin of Francis Drake, in more ways than one.

He still remembers the first time he really looked at Elena Fisher, on a dingy TV screen as she enthused about some sacrificial altar. All he’d seen was a means to an end, a pretty face and producers with deep pockets that could get him where he wanted to go. He wasn’t expecting to be blown away by her, to fall in love with the patron saint of right hooks and resolution.

But he did. And he’d married her and then broken both of their hearts and they still managed to come out on top of the world, so to speak. He knows he’s a damn lucky man. The young boy who’d gotten by with pick pocketing and luck would’ve never believed he could one day have a family, real family. But he does. He has Sully, the closest thing to a father as he’s ever had. Against all odds, he has his big brother back from the dead, too. He has friends, one he knows he can count on in any situation. And he has Elena. The love of his life, who understands him on such an intrinsic level and loves him in spite of, or perhaps because of, his past and his flaws.  
Sure, he thinks to himself. The timing could be better. They already have two potential jobs lined up for after the holidays and the crew already has their advances. But –

A baby.

There are fireworks going off in his chest and he barely has the presence of mind to turn the car off after pulling into the 24-hour pharmacy. His intelligence seems to fail him, however, once he finds himself in the proper aisle. He stares dumbly at the rows upon rows of pregnancy tests before him.

“Whoa. Okay. This…looks a little complicated.” He mumbles.

It couldn’t be that hard, right? There were only two possible answers. But did Elena want one with a digital read out or one that relied on an assortment of lines? He reaches in his pocket for his phone, before realizing he left it sitting on the nightstand at home.

“Perfect.” He mutters to himself. “Guess we’re on our own for this one, Drake.”

He spends a few more moments just staring before shrugging. He tells himself that options can’t hurt, as he grabs one of every kind.

When he dumps them all out on the corner, the teenager working the register gives him a sympathetic look. “Sorry, dude.” He says, before ringing them up one by one.

Nate briefly considers knocking the expression from his face before shrugging and digging out some bills from his wallet. The kid has braces and looks like he might scream if a girl actually touched him. Hell, he was probably that kid, once. Maybe he’d get hit the jackpot one day, too, and find someone who didn’t care that he could sometimes be a bit of an emotionally-stunted moron and want to marry him (twice, even) regardless.

“Have a nice night.” He gives the kid a salute and a grin.

Somehow, the drive back home feels even longer to him. But he manages to make it home without getting into any road rage, calling for her as soon as he swings their front door open.

“I’m back.” He huffs up the stairs. “Elena?”

“In here!” Her voice comes from her office behind him, and he turns to find her.

She’s standing at her desk, her face pensive as she stares at something in her hands. He doesn’t even have to look over her shoulder to know what it is. The only picture she has with both of her parents, usually buried in a bottom drawer where she pretends it doesn’t exist. A much smaller, gap-toothed version of her beams at the camera from her father’s lap, her mother on her other side as they pose in front of the Great Wall. 

“Come on.” He runs a hand gently down her back, shaking her out of whatever thought she’s lost in. “We have a test to _ace_.”

She follows him to their bedroom, pauses at the bathroom door as her eyes widen in incredulity when she catches sight of the bags he’s holding. “What, did you buy out the whole store?”

Nate shrugs, unapologetic. “Figured I couldn’t go wrong if I bought all of them.”

Elena laughs, full bellied and eyes sparkling. “You ridiculous human being.” 

“I love you.” He responds.

“Back atcha.” She grins over her shoulder as she walks into the bathroom. “But I chugged two whole glasses of water and I really have to pee.”

He sits on the counter while she gets to opening the packaging of a few tests. “Best out of three?” She asks, shaking one at him.

“Sounds good to me.” He agrees, rubbing his hands together a bit nervously.

He doesn’t bother to leave the bathroom, and she doesn’t ask him to. When she’s finished, she leans on the counter next to him. “Five minutes.” She tells him quietly as she sets the alarm on her phone.

“Did you brush your teeth?” He raises an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe. Why?”

He reaches for her, guiding her to stand in front of him. “Because I really want to do this.”

She braces her hands on the counter as he drags her face to his, their lips meeting gently. It starts off as just gentle brushes, but Elena curls a hand behind his neck to press more firmly against her.

They pull apart after a few long moments, and Elena just sinks into his arms, resting her ear against his chest.

“No matter what it says, we’re good, right?”

“Of course.” He responds instantly. “Unless it says you’re pregnant with an alien. And in that case, we’re nowhere near good.”

She smiles into his chest, pinches his inner elbow lightly. “If it’s an alien, it’s totally your fault.”

“How is it _my_ fault?” He asks incredulously.

“You’re the one who had to go fight those guardian things. Who knows what long term exposure to that resin could do to your DNA.”

“Fine. I guess we’ll just have to move deep into the woods and raise our blue alien monster baby where no one can see it.”

“You’d look good in flannel.” Elena agrees. “The hot lumberjack look is in, you know.”

He scoffs at her. “I’d look good in anything.”

The chiming of her alarm startles both of them, and the mood immediately turns a bit more serious.

Elena pulls back to stand up straight, her hand moving to grip his tightly. “Look with me?”

“Of course.”

She reaches over to where the tests sit lined up on the counter. “Together.” Elena nods, gently picking up the first one.

“Positive.” He breathes the tiny plus sign unmistakable.

The next.

“Wait, what do the two lines mean?”

Elena lets out a wobbly laugh, her hand trembling. “Also positive, Nate.”

He nods, taking it from her and setting it out of the way with the other. “Three out of three?”

Elena nods, picking up the final test and taking a fortifying breath as she holds it in front of them.

“Pregnant.” Elena says softly, setting it back on the counter. Her eyes are shining with tears as they meet his. “I’m pregnant, Nate.”

He pulls her into a fierce hug, and she inhales shakily as she feels his own tears hit the top of her head.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” She says into his shirt, and he squeezes even tighter.

Nate pulls back then, with a grin. “Sully will _hate_ being called gramps.”

Elena laughs, her voice thick with tears. “We’re gonna be okay.”

“We’re gonna be perfect.” He says in her ear, quiet and firm. “I promise.”

She inhales deeply, nodding against him. “Okay, but I think I have to throw up again.”

“Go, go.” He releases her immediately. “But I’m going to have to have words with this kid if she keeps ruining our moments.”

There’s a brief pause as it hits her.

“Wait, _she?”_


	2. Chapter 2

“I’d like to have some very strong words with the genius who decided to call this _morning_ sickness.” Elena groans, pressing her forehead to the cool surface of the bathtub.

“Yeah, get in line.” Nate murmurs, kissing the exposed nape of her neck gently. “If you think you're done, I can start to run the water?”

She nods a bit jerkily, turning her head just enough to watch him step around her to turn the faucet on. “This kid’s going to come out already grounded if he keeps this up.” Their baby’s gender was still a topic of friendly debate, and she schools a smirk when she sees Nate’s face.

“ _She’ll_ shape up.” Nate promises, glaring at her from over his shoulder. “She probably just didn’t like all of those sour things you inhaled earlier.”

“I need those to think.” Elena defends halfheartedly. “Besides, no child of mine would ever dislike sour gummy worms. It’s genetically impossible. It’s more likely he’s still pissed that I thought he was the flu for two weeks.”

Before Nate can respond, she’s bent over the toilet again. He scrambles to get behind her, stroking her hair back with damp hands.

“Okay. Wasn’t actually as done as I thought.” She groans, wiping her mouth with toilet paper and flushing it all down with a grimace.

At her last appointment, her doctor had reassured her that there was no cause for concern over a sensitive stomach, that it was a common occurrence and would usually pass after the first few months.

But it had yet to let up, and they were both pretending that they weren’t worried as hell. While Elena didn’t much care for checking her weight, Nate can tell by just looking at her that she’s definitely lost a bit. And, though he had a distinct lack of experience with pregnant women, he’s pretty sure they’re usually supposed to be _gaining_ weight.

Even the mild coconut scent of her shampoo had triggered it, leading to an early morning drug store run for Nate while she’d hunched over the toilet with suds in her hair. Over the course of a week they’d replaced all of their toiletries and even changed their laundry detergent and dish soap. But despite it all, her stomach couldn’t seem to settle for more than a few hours.

He keeps an eye on the water temperature as she brushes her teeth, and when she sways ever so slightly at the counter he jumps to steady her.  

“Come on, let’s get you in there.” He tells her quietly, helping her shrug out of her clothes – his, really, since all of her pajamas still needed to be washed. He tosses the shirt and boxers towards the hamper, not even checking to see if they landed near the mark before he carefully guides her up and over the side of the tub.

“Good?” He asks once she’s settled, leaning back with her eyes closed.

She responds with an “okay” gesture, sinks down further until she’s up to her neck in water.

“Don’t fall asleep in there.” Nate warns. “Your body temperature can’t get too high.”

She opens one eye for a halfhearted glare at, giving him a salute and a teasing grin. “You should probably get in too, just to be safe.”

“We need a bigger tub.” Nate points out, even as he kicks off his pajama pants. “You’re all bony elbows and knees, you know.”

“Oh, shut up and just get in here.”

\--

A few days later, they find themselves at Elena’s OB-GYN for her first ultrasound appointment. The waiting room is packed with women, and Elena elbows him pointedly when he asks if _every_ woman decided to get knocked up at the same time. More than a few of them subtly – and not so subtly – look him up and down. Whether they recognize them from the show, which has had a stellar first season thus far, or if they’re just checking him out, he’s unsure. But Elena is unbothered, instead choosing to lean against his shoulder as she types out a few emails on her work tablet.

“I have a contact in the South Pacific who might have a dive for us off the coast of one of the Samoan Islands.” She says quietly, right in his ear. “He thinks we have a good chance at getting the go-ahead from the government, so long as we return any potential artifacts we find to them.”

“Sounds good to me.” Nate agrees. One of the new perks of their job – and newfound legitimacy –  is the friendly relationships they’ve been building with foreign officials. And Elena has such a way with words that they’ve even managed to work in countries firmly on his – and Sully’s – official list of Places To Stay Away From.

“Rainy season doesn’t end until April, though.” Elena informs him. “I’ll be awfully pregnant by then.”

“So we try our luck early.” He shrugs after a moment’s thought. “If the weather’s too bad, we can always go back later.”

“With the baby?” Elena pulls back questioningly. They hadn’t quite gotten around to discussing how they wanted to handle having a child _and_ having a show to film yet.

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Elena accepts his answer with a considering nod. “I’ll let him know, then. We can start figuring out dates if we even get the approval.”

She taps out a quick reply and hits send just as her name is called out, and she grabs at his wrist as they walk through the doorway back towards an exam room. “Please don’t get yourself kicked out again.”

“That was _one_ time.” He defends himself haughtily. “And I wasn’t actually kicked out, they just insistently asked me to leave.”

“ _Nathan_.”

“Fine.” He sighs, after the medical assistant points them to their room and they close the door behind them. “You’re no fun.”

She raises both of her eyebrows at him pointedly.  “I think the fact that I’m _here_ right now proves that I’m at least a little bit fun.”

He opens his mouth for a rebuttal but then thinks better of it, instead choosing to peruse the various posters and diagrams littering the walls.

The assistant comes back after a few moments to ask Elena a few questions, before promising that a doctor would be with them shortly. As soon as she’s gone again, Nate pokes at one poster in particular.

“Did you know that the baby’s probably the size of a kumquat?” Nate points to the picture of a tiny orange ball before looking at another section, consideringly. “Or maybe a lime.”

“What’s with all the fruit?” Elena wonders. “If I crave a lime now, I’m going to feel weird about it.”

"Just wait until she's the size of a mango." 

The doctor – thankfully – knocks on the door then, opening it to greet them both with a warm smile. Elena seems to have a pre-rehearsed list of questions, and would’ve seemed as cool as a cucumber if Nate couldn’t feel her nails biting into his hand. But they’re reassured yet again that morning sickness is normal, and so was making her husband replace or get rid of practically every scented item in the house. The doctor runs a few tests, keeps a steady flow of conversation as Elena’s iron grip slowly loosens in his.  

“Well, are you ready to see your baby?” The doctor finally asks with a knowing grin.

Elena makes a noise that might’ve been her assent, and Nate just squeezes her hand and nods.

She leaves the room to the ultrasound tech, who gets right to business. It doesn’t look like much, just a mostly amorphous shifting blob with a tiny flickering heart. But, there’s a tissue box just out of arm’s reach that the ultrasound tech hands over without being asked.

“This one’s a mover.” The tech points out after they gather themselves. “See those legs swinging around? And the little toes, right there?”

They both nod, enraptured by the black and white images on the screen. The tech adjusts her equipment a bit before hitting a button on the side of her console, filling the space with a small thumping sound.

“And that sound is your baby’s heartbeat.” She tells them. “Everything looks and sounds good to me, I’ll have the doctor come back in to finish it up. And I’ll have some copies made, if that’s alright with you?”

Elena manages to nod once, and her voice is wobbly when she gets the words out. “That would be great, thank you.”

\--

The next few days pass by uneventfully. Their editors finish polishing up their last episode of the season and send them a copy to review. It feels a bit surreal that they already have ten episodes of their own television show under their belts, but he also feels immensely proud. Until he finds out they’ve included a private highlight reel of almost every hilarious and embarrassing moment captured on film, much to Elena’s delight.

“Now _that_ is a classic moment.” Elena declares with a grin, rewinding to watch Nate’s face in slow-motion as he realizes that the exotic bird he'd been admiring had left a rather disgusting present on top of his head. “Just imagine the viral potential it has. I’m sure some intern already has it on Vine or something.”

He only manages to glare at her for a moment before succumbing to her infectious laughter, but the moment is cut short when Elena has to rush to the bathroom once again. He closes her laptop and slides off the bed to follow close behind her, wincing sympathetically as she retches violently.

“I’m fine.” She declares a few moments later. “I think I just laughed too hard.”

“She clearly doesn’t like you making fun of me.” Nate teases as she starts to brush her teeth.

She rolls her eyes at him in the mirror before spitting. “If she can’t handle _that_ , she’s doomed already.”

“You said _she_.” Nate points out with a victorious grin.

Elena rolls her eyes again, fighting back a smile as she puts her toothbrush away. “Right now, our baby is a _brussel sprout_ doing somersaults in my uterus.”

“And she’s a very beautiful little brussel sprout.”

“Ugh,” Elena turns and pushes at his chest. “I’m going to bed before brussel sprouts get weird, too.”

Nate follows her with a laugh, swatting gently at her behind as they both crawl into bed.

“Goodnight, you weirdo.” She yawns, his arms settling over her midsection as they drift off to sleep.

\--

Several hours later, he wakes with a start. His arms – and Elena’s side of the bed – are empty, the sheets cold and rumpled. Their bathroom door is shut, but a sliver of light peeks out at the bottom and the sound of violent retching reaches his ears as he becomes more aware of his surroundings.  

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he wearily rubs his eyes and frowns when he realizes how late – or early, really – it is.

“Hey, honey.” He says softly as he opens the door, squinting at the shock of bright light.

“I’m sorry.” She says as soon as she’s finished, her face drawn and pale and utterly miserable. “Did I wake you? I thought I could keep it down tonight.”

He crouches down next to her, rubbing her back gently. “You’re fine, sweetheart. Need me to get you anything?”

She shakes her head. “Just. Sit with me, maybe?”

“Of course.” He settles down next to her on the floor, tugging her gently towards him and scooting them both backwards so they’re leaning against the tub. “I’m getting kind of fond of the view down here, actually.”

“Liar.” She mumbles softly, leaning against his shoulder. He kisses the side of her head, and frowns at how warm she feels.

““Have you tried eating anything?” He says into her hair.

“Some saltines about an hour ago, when I first woke up.” She mumbled. “That I probably just flushed down the toilet.”

He sighs, mentally going through his options. She could normally at least keep the crackers down, but it had been pretty hit-or-miss the last few days. “Think you can get up? We could try some soup or something this time.”

Elena shakes her head immediately. “Better not just yet. Think I’m still due for another round.”

A few minutes later and she’s proved right, and Nate can do nothing but rub her back and wipe her face when she’s done and he hates it.

“I’m sorry.” Elena says finally, her voice gravelly and hoarse. “You should go back to bed. At least one of us should be getting some sleep tonight.”

“Hey, not a chance. I clearly remember signing up for this.” He tells her softly. “Twice, even. In sickness and in health, right?”

She nods weakly, letting her body sag back against his side. He wraps an arm around her, drops one hand to ghost over her belly and letting it slip underneath her night shirt to rub gently. She’s hardly showing yet, but the small area around her belly button had become firm and rounded, and a thrill shoots through him every time he feels it.

 _Be nice to your mother_ , _kid_ , he scolds silently, letting his fingers spread across the width of her stomach as her hand brushes gently on top of his to link their fingers. They sit in silence together for a few long moments, and Nate thinks the sky is starting to lighten outside the window above where they sit.

He gives her belly one last gentle stroke before patting it gently. “Come on, ‘Lena, let’s get you out of here. I can whip up some oatmeal or something, if you think you can handle it.”

But when he looks over at her, her features are slack and her eyes are unfocused, her head lolling against his arm when he shifts.

“Elena?” When she doesn’t respond, he shifts so his knees brace her body, using a hand to support her head. “Hey, Elena, look at me.”

She blinks slowly and meets his eyes after a few seconds, but she looks dazed. “Nate?”

“Yeah, we’re going to the hospital.” Nate grits out, shifting again to wrap one arm behind her knees and the other around her back and underneath her arm, hefting her slight weight into his arms as he stands.

And a knot of fear cramps at his stomach when she doesn’t argue, or even say anything at all.

\--

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's April Fools. No, I clearly don't understand what that means. Shoutout to everyone who kindly harassed me about getting this one finished!

Everything happens so quickly that later, if he tried to piece it all together, his memory of it had would have become ephemeral as smoke, the details slipping right through his grasp before any particular one could firmly take hold.

Details like whether or not he actually put a seatbelt on, or if he remembered to avoid the giant pothole at the end of their street, or which hospital his brain's autopilot directed him to, or who eventually takes Elena from his arms and who parks the car he abandoned, keys in the ignition, in the middle of drive that looped in front of the emergency room.

A faceless someone puts a comforting hand on his shoulder and manages, somehow, to extract the most pertinent information from him before directing him to a tackily upholstered chair in the waiting room. It takes ten minutes – and quite possibly the longest ten minutes of his life – for them to allow him back with her. She looks almost the same, except her skin looks even more pale under the harsh hospital lights and she’s no longer wearing his shirt or the hooded sweatshirt he’d draped over her in the car. Instead, the nauseating pattern of a hospital gown covers her and the tiny bump of her abdomen.

It’s  _wrong_.

It makes him think about Nepal and Tibet, even though she’d spent the majority of her time in Tenzin’s care wrapped up in brightly colored blankets, and Tenzin’s home had smelled like wood and spices, not linen and disinfectant.

He spends a few more hours – that he most  _definitely_  counts as the longest of his life – without knowing much of anything at all, watching various medical personnel poke and prod at her, and he consciously has to fight the urge to hit a few of them. He tells himself they’re all trying to help her, that they know how to take care of her, but it doesn’t stop him from gritting his teeth when they blow one of Elena’s stubborn veins while trying to insert an IV, or when they pull the sheets down to press on her belly.

Instead, he focuses on the rise and fall of her chest, the occasional twitches of her fingers, and when he’s finally allowed to sit at her side in peace, the way her eyelashes flutter when he strokes her forehead.

“We’re  _definitely_  even now.” He tells her sleeping –  _just_  sleeping, they promised – form. “This is by far the worst thing you’ve ever done, you know.”

Her heart monitor beeps steadily, and the fetal monitor whooshes reassuringly right behind it. Someone had offered to turn the sound off if the noise was bothering him, and he’s sure he startled the nurse with his vehement refusal. He’d probably owe her at  _least_  an apology after all of this, and a nice card or something, because he’s not even sure he thanked her after she brought him a small feast of granola and candy bars after he kicked the vending machine when he realized his wallet was still on his nightstand at home.

Maybe even flowers. Was it unusual to send a nurse a bouquet of flowers for being a bit of a dick? He’d have to ask Elena when she was awake – her college roommate was a nurse somewhere with Médecins Sans Frontières, and if anyone would know –

A knock on the door startles him out of his aimless thoughts, and he sits up a little straighter in his chair as an older woman, one he vaguely recognizes from the flurry of activity that had taken place earlier, enters the room.

“Hello, Mr. Drake,” She gives him a warm, sympathetic smile, which makes Nate think he probably looks a few stops beyond wrecked. “I’m Dr. Jouhari, the obstetrician who will be taking care of Mrs. Drake while she’s with us here.”

“ _Fisher_ -Drake.” He corrects instinctively, then clears his throat awkwardly. “I mean…thank you.”

Dr. Jouhari just gives him a reassuring smile before speaking again,  “Mrs. Fisher-Drake will be just fine,” She says, before starting to explain the intricacies of her condition.  _Hyperemesis gravidarum_ , she calls it, an extreme form of morning sickness. They have her hooked up to an IV to rehydrate her exhausted body, and a temporary TPN line to ensure she receives enough nutrients. He’s given a stack of informational packets and paraphernalia and his head and heart hurt just taking it all in.

All he can do is wait for her to wake up now, and the doctor slips away as his eyes finally start to droop with exhaustion, and he rests his head next to hers and drifts away.

\--

Something shifts near his head, and his body jerks into startled awareness, made hyper-vigilant by stress and anxiety. She isn’t fully awake, not yet, but her arm twitches a bit restlessly until he slides his fingers to lace through hers. She settles down infinitesimally, her hand warm and dry in his own.

A glance at the clock tells him he’d only been asleep for two hours, and his body feels like he’d run a marathon, or at least been shipwrecked or thrown off a cliff recently.

Sleep wouldn’t be coming to him again, he knew, not until Elena was awake. So he takes some time to study her face – a habit he’d picked up in Tenzin’s village that she’d always pretended to be annoyed by. Her freckles look less pronounced now, now that her coloring was steadily returning back to normal. She’d confessed to hating them as a child and young adult, but he can’t help but hope their baby inherits them from her.

Just as he’s contemplating the thought – a little boy or girl with Elena’s freckles, maybe her eyes and smile, too – her eyes begin to flutter, opening first into tiny, tentative slits before squeezing back shut against the dim lighting.

“Hey.” He leans over to get in what would be her direct line of sight. He had learned the hard way, back with Tenzin, that she quickly became agitated when she woke up confused, and in an unfamiliar place. He gently brushes her hair back from her forehead, his lips curving into a smile when her eyes finally, blearily lock onto his. “There you are.”

“Hey.” She responds weakly. “’m okay?”

“Yeah, you’re okay.” He murmurs to her. “Scared the shit out of me, but you’re both gonna be okay.”

“Mmm.” Her eyes close again. “Good. Gonna sleep again, now.”

He kisses the warm skin of her forehead. “I’ll be right here.”

“Mmm.” She hums. “Love you.”

“Back atcha.” He says to her, but she’s already drifted away.

 --

Elena wakes up enough to hold a full conversation after the sun has fully risen, and they spend the better part of the day in the hospital. Her nurse – Emily, he thinks her name might be. Or maybe Elizabeth. Something with an E, he remembers – encourages Elena to eat some ice chips, then a full-blown rainbow assortment of Jell-O, then a banana and some applesauce, and, when she dutifully keeps it all down, some soup and crackers for a late lunch.

One thing he knows for certain about his wife, is how restless and uneasy she becomes when she’s not in control of her own self. And this – sharing her actual body with a tiny person, _and_ being confined to a hospital bed being practically spoon-fed, definitely had to qualify.

He can see it in the way her eyes keep darting to the window, and the frustrated way she huffs when her limbs don’t entirely cooperate at first when she tries to use the bathroom on her own.

“I’m not an invalid,” She snips at him once, before her face crumples and she buries it in his shoulder. “C’mon, you and me, we can totally bust out of this joint, huh?”

The nurse – Liz, he thought he’d someone call her in the hallway – promised that Dr. Jouhari would be back within the hour now that Elena was awake, and that her official discharge would soon follow, but he humors her anyways.

“Definitely,” He agrees as he rubs her back. “Piece of cake. The security here’s crap. The stairwells aren’t even guarded, the _amateurs_.”

“That’s a lot of ground for us to cover without being spotted, though.” Elena sighs, turning her face into his neck.

“Fresh out of smoke bombs, too.” He says ruefully. “This one was a rush job.”

“Well, we’re only, what, five stories up,” Elena points out, her voice muffled by his skin. “So we could just climb down, really.”

“We could,” He nods in affirmation. “But, you should probably put some pants on first, Lara Croft.”

“Hey,” She pulls back with a lopsided grin, “I think that may be the first time you’ve ever said that to me.”

 He shrugs back at her. “This is the first time you’ve ever suggested scaling a building in a backless hospital gown.”

“And people say marriage is boring.”

\--

The knot in his stomach had loosened considerably since Elena had woken up, but as he watches her nurse disconnect the IV line from her hand and untangle the oxygen wires from behind her ears, it squeezes back into a vice.

“If we don’t see any improvement, we’d eventually have to consider intravenous nutrition.”  Dr. Jouhari says to them both, but while looking at Elena. “We’ve sent a prescription for an antiemetic to your pharmacy, but make sure to follow up with your primary care physician and OB-GYN as soon as you can, alright?”

Elena nods in acknowledgement, smiling tightly until Dr. Jouhari leaves the room. She waits until the doctor's footsteps fade into the din of the hospital before she swings her legs over the side of the side of the bed. “Nate, help me up.” She says quietly.

“I think they’re supposed to bring you a chair–”

“ _No_.” She says sharply and then softens, scratching anxiously at the gauze and tape on her hand. “I just, would really like to get dressed and go home right now, _please_?”

Against his better judgment, he carefully helps her up. It takes a moment for her to steady herself, but she tilts her chin up stubbornly and only huffs a little when he carefully unties the gown behind her neck and tosses it somewhere behind them.

He helps her get her arms through a powder blue hoodie, zipping it all the way up before gently pushing her to sit back on the bed.

“Where did you get these things from, anyway?” She wrinkles her nose as he slides a pair of matching sweatpants up her legs.

“The hospital gift shop. Figured you’d want to leave here in more clothing than you arrived in.”

If her restlessness is any indication - and it is, as his memories of fighting to keep her tucked in bed back in Tibet were still a bit fresh in his mind lately - she’s more than a little bit overwhelmed by it all, and nothing would calm her nerves until she was back in familiar territory.

“My hero.”

“Yeah,” Nate huffs as he tugs the band over her hips. “Remember that when I’m force-feeding you liquids, m’kay?”

“Will do.” She nods solemnly.

They’re only a step or two from the door when it opens for them, with Elena’s nurse and an empty wheelchair waiting in the hallway on the other side.

“Ah,” Liz grins knowingly, her eyes glinting. “It seems I got here just in time.”

Flowers, he decides right then.  _Definitely_  flowers.

\--

“I’m so sick of soup.” Elena groans miserably a few days later, curled up on the couch next to him, making a valiant attempt at answering the ridiculous backlog of emails she’d somehow acquired. “I’d kill for a burrito. Or just, like, a  _giant_  pizza. With pineapple and banana peppers. Ooh, and lots and lots of bacon.”

“Well, let’s work on keeping the chicken and stars down, first.” Nate reminds her, gesturing at the still-steaming bowl on the coffee table. “Then we’ll start getting into all of your gross and freaky cravings, deal?”

“Can’t wait.” Elena sighs wistfully, chomping down on a saltine before leaning forward to blow on her soup. She dips a cracker in the bowl and chews it thoughtfully.

“We should talk about how we’re going to tell everyone.” She says after a moment. “Everyone will be here in the same place in what, two weeks. We probably won’t get a better opportunity.”

Nate grunts back. “Can’t we just, I dunno, give everyone cheesy t-shirts or something? Sully’s can just say _I'm The Goddamn Grandpa_.”

“You might be onto something, I’m not sure anything less than a flashing neon sign will spell it out clear enough for our family.” Elena says ruefully.

“Well,” Nate glances over at her nervously. “Sam  _might_  already know, so that  _might_  be one less person we have to tell.”

She doesn’t look too surprised, although she does raise an eyebrow at him. “I thought we weren’t saying anything until everyone was together for the holiday?”

“I know, I know,” Nate says apologetically. “It just came out, you know, one minute we’re talking about this crazy stunt he and Sully pulled and the next I’m telling him about all the little fingers and toes and hearing the heartbeat–”

“I get it, I get it,” Elena laughs, stroking an affectionate hand across his cheek as she cuts off his slight tirade. “Your impending fatherhood has made you a sap.”

He throws a halfhearted glare her way, but she pretends not to notice as she drops her hand in favor of grabbing another cracker to dip in her broth. “I’ll have you know I am just _very_  in tune with my emotions.”

“Well, in the interest of full disclosure,” Elena says casually, chewing slowly before meeting his eyes. “Make that  _two_  less. Chloe knows, too.”

Nate makes a choking sound. “Chloe? As in,  _Chloe my ex_?”

“No,” Elena gives him an exasperated look, because they’ve definitely been over this before. “As in, Chloe our  _good_ _friend_.”

He still looks mildly offended. “At least Sam’s my  _brother_ , you told  _Chloe_?”

“I didn’t  _tell_  Chloe,” Elena grouses, only just barely stopping herself from crossing her arms in residual disgruntlement by dusting the cracker crumbs off her leggings. “She just knew.”

“She just  _knew_?” He repeats incredulously.

“Something about my matronly aura being more oppressive than usual.” Elena snorts, unable to _not_ be amused when remembering that last-minute brunch date with her husband’s former partner and aforementioned ex-girlfriend’s _new_ partner, who'd actually attempted to kill her husband more than once. “That, and I turned down a mimosa.”

“Hmph.”

He goes quiet for a minute after that, lost in thought or distracted by whatever D-list action flick had come on after  _Raiders of the Lost Ark_. She finishes the last of her soup, sends off an email to their producers and a few more to various museums who’d made some inquiries, and she settles back into the couch with a sigh. She makes quick work of tucking herself into his side, his hand dropping from the back of the couch to wrap around her waist, settling onto her belly.

“Your aura is not matronly.” He says finally, giving her a sidelong glance.

“I have a very sexy aura.” She nods, wincing at something onscreen - was that a _shark_ in a _parking garage_? – before Nate switches the channel to a nature documentary. She only halfheartedly hopes it’s not still the one that was on earlier – he’d already teared up a bit watching a baby elephant rescue and she’s not sure she can hold her own back this time.

 “You do.” He agrees.

She nods again. “And you’re totally not a sap.”

“Nope.”

“Are those…baby chimpanzees?” 

 


End file.
